Second Chance
by vexedsorrows
Summary: After the war ended, and Vex took the place as Grand Mage and Saracen as Elder, (funny, actually) Dusk gets very interested in China's past. Solomon Wreath and Valkyrie Cain find a way to make people return from death. Eliza gets in trouble because of the Church of the Faceless. Tanith and Sanguine have a huge fight. Oh... China is missing all the fun, isn't she?
1. Murderer

Dexter Vex knew something was wrong.

He had known it since the moment that the French sorcerer offered no resistance while being taken. Under normal circumstances, this wouldn't be anything unusual, but this wasn't a normal circumstance. They were at war, and in war people fight for their honour, for their people. People fight because they never know if they'll live to tell tales of what they did. He had learnt that in the many years he had spent there thinking he wouldn't return alive. He wasn't proud of many of the things he did during the war with Mevolent; but war is not a time to mourn all the bad choices you have made.

Vex was the one who was escorting the sorcerer to the room of the Council. If all went as the Grand Mage had predicted, they would have in their hands their enemies' plans before the devil even blinked. Maybe they couldn't have all of the plans, but they needed at least some - enough to stay a step ahead of the others.

The reason for the all of this was that the French sorcerer was young; far too young to have fought in the war with Mevolent, too young to have even heard his name in its true essence. Too young to know what war is. And Vex knew that the younger you were, the more hope you had, and so the boy would try to avoid being killed because he still had the hope of returning home alive. Sometimes Vex liked to be able to think that way, but he knew that right now, he was one of the lucky ones.

Somewhere along the way, the boy stopped and took a deep breath. Vex looked at him but didn't speak. If the boy took more than three seconds, Vex would fire a punch into him or make him unconscious. But then... then the boy turned back to look Vex in the eyes and smiled. "Seems like you'll have to find a new leader... Again."

Vex looked at the boy, confused - until he remembered that China was speaking with French sorcerers in the council room, and then it all made sense. A distraction. Vex ran as fast as he could, but not before leaving the boy lying on the ground, unconscious. He wanted to make sure he would be there when he returned.

Only in that moment did Vex realise how huge the corridors of the Sanctuary were, and he found himself cursing whoever had built it. The door to the council room was open, and Dexter entered. At first glance, everything was normal; the chairs were in their places and there was nothing broken. But then he heard the sound of someone trying to breathe but not being able to, the sound of someone struggling for air. He walked cautiously around the table and saw China, on the floor, with a broken glass of water next to her. It had still had water when China had dropped it, he realised, but this was not the time to be a knelt beside her body. China clung tightly to Vex's arm, and he looked at her.

"Dexter..." she managed to say.

Dexter shook his head vigorously. "Don't talk. Try to breathe. You'll be fine."

Saracen emerged through the door, and Vex signalled for him to call someone. When Saracen left them, China spoke again. "Surviving again would mean I'd have much more luck than I deserve." She coughed again. It was becoming increasingly difficult for her to breathe.

China took a final breath of air, and managed to say just one more sentence. "Tell Skulduggery that I love him, and that I'm sorry." After that, she tried to breathe again, but Vex figured that her lungs had stopped functioning. Her eyes rolled into the back of their sockets, the hand that was on his arm dropped, and Vex ceased to feel her pulse. Vex looked desperately at her for any sign of life but found none. He eventually shook his head, sighed and stood up. He heard hurried footsteps in the hallway, and saw Saracen emerge at the door. As he saw China's body, Saracen's eyes widened. He looked at the Vex.

"Is she ...?"

"She is," Vex uttered gravely.

Saracen looked at his friend who in turn stared at the floor. Vex could only think about her last words, and wondered how he was going to narrate them to Skulduggery. If he didn't tell him, he would feel that he was betraying one of the very few people he could call a "brother". Vex didn't know where he was, but moments later Skulduggery rushed through the door. He looked from Saracen to Dexter, and Vex knew that Skulduggery was going to ask what happened. But then he looked at the body behind Dexter, and it became official.

China Sorrows was dead.

A/N - HEYYYY GUYS so, thank you so much for reading this shitty chapter! i promisse the next one will be better.

so, i am from portugal, so, I'm REALLY sorry if it as any mistake, or something, ok guys? thank you so much for reading, please give me your opinion, okay? thanks :) Inês xx


	2. Expensive Shoes

Gordon Edgley was having a bad week.

His first book had been placed in the shops almost a week ago, and in New York, not even one had been sold. When he arrived, the first thing he did was go to a book store there to see people's reactions, but the few who looked only read the back cover, then shrugged and put it back on the shelf. Gordon found himself cursing Nicholas Sparks and his novels which, in his opinion, served only for teenage girls who believed that love conquers all (which, Gordon made a point of showing in his books, wasn't true).

After about three hours crouched behind a plant without anyone seeing him (or so he thought), Gordon took a deep breath and stood up, leaving the store. He walked down the street, dragging his feet on the ground, and muttering to himself about people's bad literary taste. The life he fantasised about was much better than the one that romantic books liked to demonstrate. People who could throw fireballs and with a stream of air make your enemies raise their feet off floor were much more interesting than the typical rich boy who falls for the typical poor girl. Typical. " Typical " and " normal" were the words that he liked the least.

Gordon looked around at all the people living their lives, adolescents laughing and adults running to go home after a day full of work, and Gordon couldn't help feeling that didn't belong there. There, life was always the same. If he went to New York, Ireland or even to Japan, people, being so different, were also so equal. And Gordon had never liked normality.

He believed in everything that his father had told them; to him, Desmond and Fergus. He believed that he was descended from the Ancients, and he believed that there were people capable of doing everything he described in his book. Why not? There are people who believe in aliens. Others, vampires and werewolves. He believed in magic and sorcerers.

Suddenly, he had the urge to go and get a drink . He used to go and get a drink whenever he was feeling down. Alcohol would eventually be better company than the people with whom he had to live with everyday. He went to a little bar in the area. It was Friday night; ninety five percent of the bars of New York were filled with teenagers dancing to the sound of what they called music. Gordon prefered a quieter place in which to feel depressed alone.

When he entered, there were only three men, two playing pool and one sitting at a table, very far from the rest. The appearance of that gentleman intrigued Gordon, but he was too busy thinking about how people had not bought a book as good as his to worry about looking at the man with proper attention. He sat at the counter and waited for the bartender to turn to him, and when he did, he asked what he wanted.

"One Vodka please."

The bartender looked at him while preparing the drink, and gave him a friendly smile. "Bad day?"

Gordon sighed. "Bad week."

The man sighed - not knowing what to say, Gordon concluded - and gave him the drink. When his lips touched the glass, without even having tasted the drink, Gordon felt immediately better. The air that emanated from that bar made him feel better. He felt like he was able to talk to even Beryl without throwing her one scathing comment. That was why Gordon liked bars.

He found that he had been drinking heavily. He felt dizzy, but happy. Too happy. If someone even breathed he'd be in fits of laughter. This had probably happened already. He wasn't sure; he couldn't remember. The only thing he knew with great certainty was that the gentleman who was sitting at the far-away table was still there, without having moved, in exactly the same position since the first time he had set his eyes upon him. More men joined those who were playing pool. Five, he estimated. But it could be six. Or even four. At that point, if you asked him his name, he would answer Leonardo DiCaprio.

Even in that state, he could not refrain from irritating others. The men playing pool seemed a fantastic target. Something in Gordon's mind told him not to mess with the gentleman at the table. When he was about to throw them an insult (extremely intelligent, by the way), he recognised them as the same men he had gotten under the skin of in another bar... in fact, it had happened the previous day. They all looked at Gordon, and he said something that seemed to him like a "Hello boys!" but which was probably no more than a grunt.

"Look who's here..." growled one.

"The total idiot who, just yesterday, made a fool out of me in front of my girlfriend," the one who now spoke, the tallest of them all, took a step forward.

"Your girlfriend? I thought she was your mum."

The tallest one balled his hands into fists and lifted them up, but another man - who seemed to be the eldest, stopped him. "Hey there, asshole, as you can see, there are five of us, and only one of you. And, of course, we're stronger, and you are alone, so -"

"I don't think he's alone," said someone with a voice as soft as velvet from behind the men. Everyone turned to see the gentleman from the table.

The tallest one looked him up and down, and took a step back when he realised that despite being the tallest, his head barely reached the shoulder of the gentleman-of-the-far-away-table. The old man muttered something to his colleague and stepped forward.

"Who are you?"

The attitude of the new stranger didn't change. When he spoke, Gordon - despite being in the state he was in - noticed a certain tone of amusement in the man's voice .

"I am me. My name is Skulduggery Pleasant, and your attempts to intimidate this man were becoming extremely annoying, so I decided to intervene."

"Not in my bar," they heard the barman say. "If you have some issues to resolve, please resolve them outside - it took me such a long time to build these tables."

The old man looked over at the barman and then motioned to the others to follow him. One of them spoke. "I... I don't think this is a good idea boss."

Only when they got outside did the boss speak again. "What, Peter? There are five of us; they are two. We are clearly stronger."

"Boss, you're not understanding.. " Peter spoke again. "Skulduggery Pleasant, the Detective. The Skeleton."

The eyes of the older man widened so much that Gordon thought they were going to jump out of their sockets. Also, why did they call him "the skeleton"? He looked at Skulduggery. Maybe they called him that because he was so skinny. But they could also call him "the eyeless one" because of the sunglasses. Or "the neckless one" because of the scarf. Or even the "the faceless one" because you could not see a single stroke of his face.

"Peter Lightning. Davina Marr's brother, if I'm not mistaken."

Peter growled and took a step forward, but the others held him back . "Don't you dare talk about my sister."

"Oh, your family is still angry with me because the American Sanctuary asked me for help and I solved the case, while your sister thought that the Diablerie and China Sorrows were behind all of that - a group which we haven't been heard anything about for 170 years and this woman with whom I speak quite regularly. I see. "

Everyone turned to Gordon , and about 5 seconds later he realised he was laughing. For no reason whatsoever.

"Okay, this case is all very beautiful and interesting to solve another time. Now we have some business to settle with the man who is behind you, detective."

Skulduggery looked at Gordon, then looked at the men again. "He's drunk. Tomorrow he will not even remember what he was doing here. Are you sure you want to risk getting anything broken for nothing, Shade?"

Shade shook his head back and laughed, and Skulduggery tilted his.

"What 's so funny?"

"" Risk getting anything broken"? Your colleague is back there too drunk to move, and you are a skeleton. I don't think I will end up with anything broken."

One moment, Skulduggery was next to Gordon, and the next, he was behind Shade, twisting his arm. It was all so fast that Gordon had no time to react. Skulduggery twisted Shade's arm further and he shouted - Skulduggery had broken it. Peter threw a fireball against Skulduggery, but he completely missed.

Gordon watched it all, amazed. He also wanted to participate. He approached one of them, and gave him a mighty punch between the eyes, and laughed. The man took a few steps back to regain balance and Gordon could see he was bleeding from his nose. The man growled and kicked Gordon between his legs and he fell to the ground, groaning in pain. Gordon saw a fireball generating in his hand, but in the next moment the man found himself being literally lifted off the ground and pushed against the wall.

Skulduggery turned to the remaining two, but as they saw him approaching them, they simply ran. Skulduggery watched them disappear into the streets, and then turned to Gordon .

"Well... You don't see that everyday."

In the confusion, Gordon had not even noticed that the hat, sunglasses and crimped hair had left him. Now without all these things, there was no denying the fact that he had no flesh, he had no skin, no eyes and no lips.

He was a skeleton.

Gordon looked at him for a moment. "Sir... you…. are a skeleton."

"Indeed I am."

Gordon was doubled over with laughter and he soon felt the bile rise in his throat. When he noticed, he had already vomited on Skulduggery's shoes, and when he looked up, Skulduggery was staring at him without speaking. Gordon guessed that if he had lips, they would be white because of how firmly they would have been pressed together.

Those were expensive shoes, he guessed.


End file.
